


Brownham

by sick_boy



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (not really just a bit of retching), Brownham, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Matthew being his own brand of creepy cute, Nightmares, Touching, Unrequited Love, Vomiting, Voyeurism, at least for now, in a non-sexual way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:11:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1376776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sick_boy/pseuds/sick_boy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matthew watches Will sleep, then helps him cope with the nasty side effects of sodium amytal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brownham

“Mmn... geh-.. ah!” Will squirmed under the yellowed light above his cot, his sweat-spotted brow tensed in fear.

The sodium amytal had sedated him, but it could not keep his nightmares away. Instead, it had intensified them.

Standing outside his cell was the orderly, Matthew Brown, admiring the vulnerability and intimacy of the moment. Will was the only prisoner in the whole block, and there weren’t many orderlies on staff tonight. Matthew had Will all to himself.

“Uhhh...” A tortured moan emitted from his parted lips.

Matthew was glad Will had the whole wing to himself. The other prisoners were base and lowly creatures compared to the artist that was Will Graham. The orderly also knew that Will’s screaming nightmares would disturb the other patients, resulting in a team of guards coming in and sedating him. A unique mind like Will’s was not to be altered. He was perfect as he was, and any drugs would leech him of his intellect, of his beauty, leaving an unflattering copy in his wake.

But tonight’s drug of choice didn’t dull his nightmares. Will’s fingers twitched and grasped at his uniform. Both arms were laying across his stomach and chest, right where Matthew had placed them hours ago.

The usual brigade of guards and orderlies had been summoned to the interrogation room when the IV solution had lulled Will to sleep, head drooping onto his shoulder. Matthew had taken Will’s slack, clammy hand and gently, lovingly slid the needle from his skin, gazing at his peaceful expression. What he wouldn’t give to be the cause of that... They loaded him onto a gurney, dumped him on his cot back in his cell. Only Matthew stayed behind, positioned his body so he’d be more comfortable.

Matthew had yet to tell the source of his affection that he was responsible for the bailiff and judge’s murders. He was waiting for the right moment. Then, Will would see his love for him. Then, Will would understand him, and Will would let him know his genius. Matthew would help Will escape, and they would become the greatest murder duo of their time.

But one step at a time. Right now, he was content with watching the sweat bead on his love’s forehead, watching a myriad of expressions color his face. His breath stuttered and quickened, his head darted back and forth, eyes rolling under their lids.

“Ehhmm... Ehhgh.. Ahh!” Will shouted, jerking onto his side, eyes opening halfway.

“Mr. Graham?” Matthew said innocently, as if he hadn’t been there the whole time.

Will was panting and shaking, gripping the edge of the cot to keep his torso upright. His eyes rolled up momentarily to see the white shoes of an orderly. Great.

“What do you need, Mr. Graham?”

A shaking hand pointed to the toilet. “I... I need-,” he whispered, breathless, launching his torso off the edge of the bed to retch.

Matthew already has his keys in the door, abandoning all pretense. “I’m coming, Will.”

He re-locked the door, then took the shaking man under his arms, his uniform drenched with sweat, and hauled him to the toilet ten feet away.

Will leaned his head on the rim, deathly pale and breathing hard. Heaved again.

“It’s the sodium amytal,” Matthew said consolingly. “I’ve seen it do this to other patients. When they don’t eat.”

Will spat into the toilet, the bowl amplifying his breathing.

“C’mere,” Matthew tried to grab under Will’s arms again, but Will grunted and leaned against the sink pipe.

“You’re not gonna throw up, I can tell,” the orderly said. “You have to get blood back in your head before you pass out. Let me help you.”

Will gave him a confused look, but didn’t protest when Matthew lifted him up and over to the bed. He sat Will down next to him and positioned his head between his legs. He kept his hand on his back at the edge of the sweat stain, hoping Will was too distracted to notice. With every shaky inhale and exhale, the orderly felt his love’s back expand and dip, felt heat radiate from under two layers of cotton.

“I’m going to get you something to drink,” Matthew said. Will stayed between his legs, breath evening out a bit.

Four minutes later, Matthew jogged back to Will’s cell and handed him a cup of ginger ale.

Will sniffed. “Thangyou,” he muttered, as Matthew sat next to him on the cot. The cot where Will slept. Every night.

“Can I get you to eat anything? You missed dinner.”

The prisoner shook his head. “M’tired.”

Then suddenly, Will realized who he was talking to, and how close he was. No bars between them.

“Aren’t you breaking the rules?” He asked, resting his head in his hand.

“No one’s here, it’s President’s Day or some shit,” the orderly responded. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

Will shrugged, eyes closed, massaging his forehead.

Matthew put his hand in his white coat pocket. “Oh yeah,” he remembered. “I got these for you.”

He opened his palm to reveal two aspirin.

“Just aspirin, I swear,” he half-smiled. “That stuff usually gives one hell of a headache.”

“Thanks,” Will said, and this time it looked like he meant it. He downed them with the rest of the ginger ale.

“I’ll take that,” and their fingers grazed as Matthew enclosed his hand around the empty cup.

He tried to keep his voice neutral, but kept feeling as though he were talking to a middle school crush. “I can get you another uniform, if you’ll stay awake long enough.”

But Will’s eyes were already drooping. “No. You’re gonna get yourself fired if you keep being nice to me.”

“Yeah, well... What Chilton doesn’t know won’t hurt him. At least, not today,” he flashed Will a smile, and Will weakly smiled back. Matthew’s heart sang.

“What’s your name?” Will asked.

“Matthew.”

Will nodded. “Well, Matthew, thank you for... treating me like a human being.”

Matthew looked him in the eye. “You deserve a lot more than that.”

Matthew unlocked and relocked the cell door as Will lay down again, returning his hands to the same position Matthew had placed them in.

“Sweet dreams, Mr. Graham.”

The orderly walked back down the hall to the nurse’s station, having the absurd idea to skip. He would wait for Will to fall asleep before returning to his post just outside his cell, imagining stroking his sweat-heavy curls. Imagining placing a cool washcloth on his fevered forehead. Imagining Will’s heavy-lidded eyes filled with gratitude. And love.

Right now, it was all imagining. But not for long.


End file.
